'Now come, I will make you
Some tea in my office.'
"His den is just under
The stairs. There's a bedstead,
A little iron stove,
And a candlestick in it, 190
A big samovar,
And a lamp in the corner.
Some pictures are hung
On the wall. 'That's His Highness,'
The porter remarks,
And he points with his finger.
I look at the picture:
A warrior covered
With stars. 'Is he gentle?'
"'That's just as you happen 200
To find him. Why, neighbour,
The same is with me:
To-day I'm obliging,
At times I'm as cross
As a dog.'
"'You are dull here,
Perhaps, little Uncle?'
"'Oh no, I'm not dull;
I've a task that's exciting:
Ten years have I fought 210
With a foe: Sleep his name is.
And I can assure you
That when I have taken
An odd cup of vodka,
The stove is red hot,
And the smuts from the candle
Have blackened the air,
It's a desperate struggle!'
"There's somebody knocking.
Makhár has gone out; 220
I am sitting alone now.
I go to the door
And look out. In the courtyard
A carriage is waiting.
I ask, 'Is he coming?'
'The lady is coming,'
The porter makes answer,
And hurries away
To the foot of the staircase.
A lady descends, 230
Wrapped in costliest sables,
A lackey behind her.
I know not what followed
(The Mother of God
Must have come to my aid),
It seems that I fell
At the feet of the lady,
And cried, 'Oh, protect us!
They try to deceive us!
My husband—the only 240
Support of my children—
They've taken away—
Oh, they've acted unjustly!'…
"'Who are you, my pigeon?'
"My answer I know not,
Or whether I gave one;
A sudden sharp pang tore
My body in twain."
* * * * *
"I opened my eyes
In a beautiful chamber, 250
In bed I was laid
'Neath a canopy, brothers,
And near me was sitting
A nurse, in a head-dress
All streaming with ribbons.
She's nursing a baby.
'Who's is it?' I ask her.
"'It's yours, little Mother.'
I kiss my sweet child.
It seems, when I fell 260
At the feet of the lady,
I wept so and raved so,
Already so weakened
By grief and exhaustion,
That there, without warning,
My labour had seized me.
I bless the sweet lady,
Elyén Alexándrovna,
Only a mother
Could bless her as I do. 270
She christened my baby,
Lidórushka called him."
"And what of your husband?"
"They sent to the village
And started enquiries,
And soon he was righted.
Elyén Alexándrovna
Brought him herself
To my side. She was tender
And clever and lovely, 280
And healthy, but childless,
For God would not grant her
A child. While I stayed there
My baby was never
Away from her bosom.
She tended and nursed him
Herself, like a mother.
The spring had set in
And the birch trees were budding,
Before she would let us 290
Set out to go home.
"Oh, how fair and bright
In God's world to-day!
Glad my heart and gay!
"Homewards lies our way,
Near the wood we pause,
See, the meadows green,
Hark! the waters play.
Rivulet so pure,
Little child of Spring, 300
How you leap and sing,
Rippling in the leaves!
High the little lark
Soars above our heads,
Carols blissfully!
Let us stand and gaze;
Soon our eyes will meet,
I will laugh to thee,
Thou wilt smile at me,
Wee Lidórushka! 310
"Look, a beggar comes,
Trembling, weak, old man,
Give him what we can.
'Do not pray for us,'
Let us to him say,
'Father, you must pray
For Elyénushka,
For the lady fair,
Alexándrovna!'
"Look, the church of God! 320
Sign the cross we twain
Time and time again….
'Grant, O blessed Lord,
Thy most fair reward
To the gentle heart
Of Elyénushka,
Alexándrovna!'
"Green the forest grows,
Green the pretty fields,
In each dip and dell 330
Bright a mirror gleams.
Oh, how fair it is
In God's world to-day,
Glad my heart and gay!
Like the snowy swan
O'er the lake I sail,
O'er the waving steppes
Speeding like the quail.
"Here we are at home.
Through the door I fly 340
Like the pigeon grey;
Low the family
Bow at sight of me,
Nearly to the ground,
Pardon they beseech
For the way in which
They have treated me.
'Sit you down,' I say,
'Do not bow to me.
Listen to my words: 350
You must bow to one
Better far than I,
Stronger far than I,
Sing your praise to her.'
"'Sing to whom,' you say?